


Bully

by KagSesshlove



Series: Grade School [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, But not really at all, Gen, a lot in denial, also a date, also jason and tim a little bit, batbros, batfam, bullies are sucky, but less so, damian is not sucky, if a bit in denial, mostly damian, okay, so i feel that's a good description, they're super cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6418465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagSesshlove/pseuds/KagSesshlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine that Damian goes to a regular school full time. And has to do things that normal grade-schoolers have to do. Like deal with a bully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bully

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
> 
> Warnings: Contains the most precious individual in the world. Allusions to racial slurs as well as insults to parentage. Mild angst…
> 
> Note: Because this had to be covered at least once; it’s like a requisite for the fandom. Sorry for the lack of lightheartedness. I hope the end makes up for it.

 

Tim regretted answering the call shortly after he picked it up.

"Hey, Dick."

"Hey, Timmy."

Dread ran through him almost immediately.  He didn't like that tone.

"What happened?"

"Uh... Damian's school called. Again."

Tim groaned, torn between exasperation and amusement. 

_(How does Demon manage?)_

"Right. What did he do now?" he asked, running a hand through his hair and taking a moment to wonder why Dick had called _him_ about it.

"He was called to the office for bullying."

Tim snorted. "Better than threatening to gouge out a teacher’s eyes.”

Dick sighed. "Yeah. Anyway, I got the call, so B doesn't know, and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible. So... would you pick him up for me?"

"What?! Dick-"

"Please, Tim! You're already out and I don't want to draw any attention to the situation by leaving! Just... keep him with you until his school lets out. Please?"

"I- no! Just because I'm not in school doesn't mean I'm not busy. I have work!"

"You can take off," Dick pointed out. 

( _I could, but that doesn't mean I want to_.)

"I am not spending 3 hours with him, Dick. Someone would end up dead."

“Come on, Tim! Consider it punishment for him since he shouldn't have attacked anyone in the first place."

"Really? That's what you're going with? Better punishment would be letting B know."

"Babybird, please? I'm going to talk to Damian about it when he gets home. I just-"

"Yeah, I know."

And he did. Damian was Dick's baby, which was ridiculous on a number of levels, but undeniably true. Tim had worked past his anger about it a while ago, but it didn't make it any less annoying when Dick did things like this to shield the Demon. He understood – in theory – but it was still annoying.  Especially when his older brother dragged him into it.

"So, will you do it?"

Tim sighed heavily. "Fine. But you owe me."

"Thanks, Babybird! I'll make it up to you! And remember, don't bring him back until-"

"School lets out. Yeah, I know."

Tim hung up the car phone and groaned. 

( _This is going to be a disaster._ )

* * *

 

Tim sent a carefully crafted smile to the secretary as he walked into the office, ignoring the way Damian’s eyes widened and then narrowed when he saw him.

( _The feeling's mutual_.)

"Hello, Ms. Reynolds. I'm Timothy Drake-Wayne. I'm Damian’s older brother. Bruce couldn't come, so I'm here to pick him up."

She pursed her lips. "Mr. Wayne should be here; the Headmistress wanted to hold a meeting."

Tim followed her gaze to the chairs and noticed for the first time that another student and his mother were in the room.

( _Dick, what did you get me in to?)_

"That's fine. I can stand in for him, right?"

Tim wasn't asking.

She blinked. "Um, well-"

"I don't think it should be a problem. I could call Bruce, but I'd hate to interrupt his work."

"Right, no- that's fine. I'll tell the Headmistress that you're here. She's making a call, but she'll be done soon."

Tim gave another fake smile. Dick _so_ owed him. 

He walked over to Damian, taking the seat next to him to keep up appearances; he'd rather be across the room. Or across the country. 

"So," Tim whispered, "you want to tell me why you were bullying your classmate?"

Damian’s answering snarl was predictable. "Why are you here, Drake?"

"Because Dick doesn't want Bruce to know how much trouble you’re in. I swear it's like you're asking for another suspension."

Damian glared, absolutely mutinous, but there was something else in his expression that made Tim pause. He wasn't sure what it was - not necessarily defensive but... 

"What happened?" Tim asked, genuinely curious. 

"Does it matter? I was bullying someone; it's irrelevant to you, isn't it?"

His tone was venomous, but his wording was throwing Tim off.

( _I'm definitely missing something.)_

Tim frowned slightly. If he really thought about it, Damian bullying someone was nearly as difficult to imagine as him trying to get someone to smoke. The Demon was a brat, and he was condescending, and he had a tendency to spew out threats indiscriminately, but he took his role as Robin seriously. And that meant, no matter how much he detested his classmates, he'd never attack any of them without provocation.

Even if his definition of provocation was different from everyone else's. 

"What happened, Damian?"

Damian looked at him sharply before facing forward. He set his jaw and lifted his chin. 

"He was being an idiot. I dealt with it."

Tim's brow furrowed and he took a breath. Okay, time for a leap of faith. He was probably going to regret this.

"If you don't tell me what happened, I can't help you, Damian."

Tim took pleasure in the way Damian gaped at him. It was difficult for Tim to even offer to help. And for Tim to imply that he trusted Damian wasn't at fault. But it was worth it just to see his face.

And there wasn't a twinge of hurt at his little brother's disbelief. Not even a little bit. Really. 

Damian swallowed and turned away. "It was nothing. They were just saying stupid stuff."

"Like what?"

Damian shot a look at him, and Tim wondered why it was harder to get information from him than a villain. 

"It doesn't matter."

_(He's so difficult.)_

Tim sighed. "Well, what did you do? To have them bring you into the office for bullying?"

Damian sniffed. "I retaliated. That's all."

Tim resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Damian, I need the full story if I'm going to keep you from getting suspended. I have to know what I'm dealing with."

He sounded like a defense lawyer. Dick was going to be in his debt for the rest of his life. 

Damian avoided his gaze, but then his shoulders dropped and he sighed, and Tim figured that was capitulation.

"We were being led to the cafeteria and that idiot was making derogatory comments about my heritage."

Tim frowned.

"I ignored him, of course. His prejudice simply shows how ignorant he is."

"Then what happened?"

Damian shifted, and that look was back on his face. "He realized he wasn’t getting a reaction from me and decided to move on to questioning my parentage and whether or not you all wanted me."

Damian snapped his jaw shut, and Tim finally placed the look. 

Insecurity.

Tim closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to calm down. Because he was angry.

It was true, he couldn't stand Damian. And yes, Damian had tried to kill him and had insinuated that none of them belonged in the family because they weren't blood.

But Damian was theirs. And no one was allowed to tell him that they didn't want him. 

_(Especially when he already worries about it himself. Not that the stupid kid would know that, but still.)_

Tim exhaled softly and nodded. "Right," he said, keeping his tone even. "And what did you do?"

Damian scowled and looked away. "I told him to shut up but he refused. So I forced Davidson to the ground, held a knife to his throat, and threatened to slice his skin off in sections if he didn’t shut up. Then Andrews intervened."

Tim laughed sharply, grim vindication rushing through him. "A knife? Didn't Dick start checking your pockets again?"

Damian looked at him cautiously. "Brown helped me sew a pocket inside my blazer," he admitted grudgingly. 

 _(I’ll have to take Steph out for waffles or something_.)

"Did anyone else see the knife?"

"I hid it when I noticed Andrews approaching."

"Right. Well-"

The Headmistress opened her door, interrupting him before he could finish.

"If you'll all follow me, then we can get started."

( _Here we go.)_

He was going to make Dick start repaying his debt by demanding a life time supply of coffee and energy drinks.

* * *

  
Damian frowned as he followed his brother into the Headmistress's office.

( _What’s Drake playing at?_ )

He wasn't sure why Grayson had felt the need to send Drake of all people- Damian would have preferred Cain, or even Todd.

But Drake had been surprisingly willing to listen to him, which was more than he had expected. He wasn't sure what telling Drake the story would do, seeing as the Headmistress was unlikely to hear him out, but it made him feel slightly better that Drake had believed him.

Not that he'd ever admit it.

They all took their seats, and Damian scowled at his older brother when he forced him to take the chair farthest to the right. Drake ignored him and sat down next to him.

“I was hoping Damian’s father would be here.”

Drake smiled – obviously fake, and surprisingly strained. “Bruce was in the middle of an important meeting; he couldn’t make it. I’m more than capable of filling in, Mrs. Kensington. Timothy Drake.”

“Of course. Thank you for coming, Mr. Drake. Should we start? Henry – and a number of witnesses – say that Damian tackled Henry to the ground. Henry also says that Damian pulled a knife on him.”

Damian crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“I demand he be expelled!” Davidson’s mother cried, leaning forward. “He pulled a knife on my son and threatened him for no reason! He’s dangerous and unstable; he shouldn’t be allowed in school.”

Damian rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to be in school himself… but he didn’t want to get kicked out. Father and Grayson especially would be disappointed in him.

“Mrs. Davidson, I understand your concerns, but it’s necessary to hear Damian’s side of the story before I make any decisions.”

“Thank you,” Drake replied, sounding oddly stiff.

Damian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. His posture was tense and his eyes were slightly narrowed; he looked… Damian wasn’t sure. But Drake was normally better at putting on his public face than this.

( _What’s wrong with him?)_

“First, I think we should establish that Damian doesn’t have a knife on him to have attacked anyone with. I’d appreciate it if that accusation was retracted.”

“Henry wouldn’t lie-“

“Are you sure, Mrs. Davidson? Because I talked to Damian myself. And Damian wouldn’t lie either.”

Damian kept his face blank, but was grudgingly impressed. Drake had obviously recovered, and was showing his skill as an actor: Drake sounded genuinely angry on his behalf.

There was a tense silence.

“Perhaps,” Kensington began, “it’s possible Henry was telling the truth. After all, there was a report saying Damian brought a knife to school during the first week.”

“And he agreed to never do it again. Would you like to see if he has another ankle holster? He wouldn’t mind turning out his pockets either, if that’s what it takes for you to realize that Damian didn’t threaten his fellow student with a weapon.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

( _That woman is annoying_. _Davidson obviously takes after her_.)

“Damian?” Drake prompted.

He scowled, but stood up, turning out the pockets of his blazer and his pants. He pulled up both pant legs for good measure, showing a lack of ankle holsters. The he sat back down crossing his arms and trying not to smirk; he’d have to remember to thank Brown for her help later.

“So, now that we’ve established Damian didn’t threaten _Henry_ with a knife, I think we can move on to addressing the real situation: Henry is claiming that my little brother attacked him without warrant. Seeing as he’s already lied once, it’s not hard to believe that he might be lying about that, is it?”

Damian was hard pressed not to gape. He didn’t, of course; he wasn’t some undignified peasant. Still, Drake was continually surprising him today, especially with how vehemently he was defending him.

( _Even though he knows about the knife… How annoying._ )

Damian didn’t like being confused. It was even worse when Drake was the one confusing him.

He was probably just doing it because Grayson asked him to. That made sense.

“What? No! Henry’s not lying; I don’t know what your little brat of a brother did with it, but he had a knife to my son’s throat!”

“Mrs. Davidson, please!” Kensington reprimanded.

“I’m sorry, did you just call my brother a brat? I assumed that you were a rational and mature adult, Mrs. Davidson; I’m disappointed that you proved me wrong. Regardless of your childishness, I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from calling my _10-year old_ brother names.”

Davidson, his mother, and Kensington were all staring at Drake in shock, which didn’t really surprise Damian. Drake had sounded colder than his civilian persona normally allowed, and – even if it were Drake of all people – he had still been trained by his father. He knew how to intimidate others.

Still, he was laying it on a bit thick; all they really needed was for Damian to avoid being suspended.

Damian subtly jabbed Drake in the side, earning a slightly disgruntled, but entirely confused look. Damian rolled his eyes.

“Well,” Kensington began. “I think we should all calm down. What did Damian say happened?”

“That Henry was making racist remarks and insinuating that Damian didn’t belong in our family.”

“My son would never-“

Drake cut her off. “I’m aware that Damian shouldn’t have resorted to violence, but I expect that you understand his reaction, Mrs. Kensington. I’d rather finish this meeting sooner rather than later, so why don’t we agree that neither boy will be punished for their actions by the school and leave discipline to their families on this issue?”

“What? Henry didn’t do anything; that- I mean, your brother should be expelled!”

“And it’s my opinion that your son should be expelled, but unless you’d rather they both get kicked out of school, I think my solution settles things.” Drake turned to Kensington. “Damian can’t prove that Henry said those things, and Henry can’t prove he didn’t. It’s true, Damian attacked him, but if Henry did say those things, then I think we can all agree that the attack wasn’t completely unwarranted.”

Drake was staring Kensington down and completely ignoring the protests from Davidson’s mother. Kensington coughed slightly and nodded.

“Of course, that… seems fair?”

Kensington didn’t actually seem sure, but she seemed to have enough sense to know that arguing with Drake on this issue wouldn’t actually get her anywhere. And she had apparently come to the decision that upsetting a Davidson was better than upsetting a Wayne.

“Excellent,” Drake said, standing up. “Then I’ll take Damian home and we’ll deal with this. It won’t happen again. Thank you, Mrs. Kensington. Mrs. Davidson. Let’s go, Damian.”

Damian stood, following Drake out of the office without looking back. He stared at his brother’s back, frowning. He sped up, walking next to him.

“What was that about?”

Drake cocked an eyebrow at him. “That was me getting you out of another suspension. A thank you would be nice,” he drawled.

Damian scowled and crossed his arms. “Thank you, Drake.”

“Wh- Um… you’re welcome. It wasn’t that big a deal. You were actually in the right on that.”

Damian shot him a dubious look.

“Okay. Well, the knife might have been a bit much in school, and you probably shouldn’t have tackled him. At least, not in public. But no one in the family would actually be upset with you about it – not after knowing the full story.”

“Tt. I doubt it.”

Drake paused when they stepped outside. He looked down at him, and Damian matched his gaze.

( _What now?_ )

“Damian…” Drake trailed off before shaking his head. “That woman was pretty annoying.”

Damian scowled, but decided he didn’t feel like calling Drake on the subject change. “Much like her son.”

“You know, there are better ways to get back at people than just attacking them then and there. I’m surprised Dick hasn’t taken more time to talk to you about it; I’ll have to pick up the slack, I guess.”

Damian’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about, Drake?”

Drake smirked. “I’m not supposed to take you back to the Manor until school lets out, so why don’t we stop by W.E.? I’m pretty sure we have a contract with the Davidson’s company.”

Damian blinked up at him. “Are you-“

“We. And I’m pretty sure we can get away with it if we tell B we’re using this as an opportunity to bond.”

Damian smirked back at him. “Hmm… that seems sensible, Drake. Perhaps you can also take the opportunity to teach me more about hacking; the Academy is a good starting point, don’t you think?”

“I’m no Barbara, but that’s an excellent idea. Let’s get going.”

“I’ll drive.”

“You’re not driving my car.”

“Tt.”

* * *

 

“So, what’s up with you, Babybat?”

Damian glared at him, but Jason ignored it, smashing his elbow into the nearest thug’s nose and dodging a punch aimed at his jaw.

Was it a good idea to have this conversation in the middle of patrol?

Probably not, but Jason was curious, and these guys were insignificant enough that neither he nor Damian actually had to focus to take them down.

( _Never mind B would lecture me for not paying enough attention._ )

“What are you talking about, To- Hood?”

Jason let out a low whistle as Damian knocked his opponent unconscious. “Nice kick, Robin. And I’m talking about your weirdly sulky attitude after you and Red Robin got back home. Did you lose a fight with him or something?”

“As if.”

Jason snorted. “Look at you; you already sound like a teenager. From a few decades ago, but still.”

A batarang whizzed past his head, and Jason grinned, though his little brother couldn’t see it. “Thanks, Babybat.”

“Pay attention and stop gossiping, Hood.”

“So there’s something to gossip about- Hey!” Jason shot a thug aiming at Damian. Three times. “I miss real bullets sometimes.”

Damian smirked at him, but didn’t comment, sweeping his foe off of his feet.

“For real, what happened?”

“Tt. Nosy.” But Damian sighed, even as he disarmed a man 3 times his size. “We went to the company and ended a few deals that we didn’t really need in the first place. And then he taught me more about hacking.”

“Right… so what’s the sulking about? Mad he was capable of teaching you something?”

Damian ran towards him, vaulting over his shoulder and kneeing a thug in the face. Jason shot someone in the shoulder – not satisfying at all.

“Your training with Nightwing has been going too well.”

“I’m just confused,” Damian admitted, surprising Jason.

He hadn’t actually thought he would admit anything.

“About what?”

“D- Red Robin was… uncommonly… Stay down! He was surprisingly willing to hear me out – and to assist me further throughout the day.”

“What’s surprising? Yeah, you guys fight, but you’re brothers. It’s not like you’d just abandon him if he needed you.”

Damian paused, staring at him like he couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. Jason shot the man approaching his little brother from behind.

Headshot.

Boring.

“What are you so shocked about?”

“I- nothing.”

And then Damian jumped back into the fight with a ferocity that typically meant he was uncomfortable with something and didn’t feel like dealing with it.

( _He is so Bruce’s son_.)

He buried the rush of sympathy and anger as he thought about why Damian was so shocked at the idea of Tim caring enough to help him.

He gritted his teeth and barely blinked when he dislocated someone’s arm.

Brothers were more trouble than they were worth.

( _I’ll have to tell Dickiebird to give the Babybat a hug when we get back._ )

* * *

 

Dick eyed Tim curiously. “So…”

“Just ask, Dick,” he muttered, not turning from the Bat-computer.

“You didn’t tell me what happened at the meeting. You just said that it wasn’t Damian’s fault and left it at that.”

Tim sighed, rolling his shoulders. “I’m typing up a report; do we have to talk about this now?”

“Well, I think it’s a good idea. Because, apparently, today wasn’t Damian’s fault. But when we finished patrol, Jay told me that I needed to give Damian a hug. And Damian was acting weird and locked himself in his room, so I didn’t even get a chance. And earlier, when you got home with him, you seemed okay, but then you got all contemplative and sort of down. Tell me what’s going on, Timmy. What happened today?”

Tim let out another sigh and turned to look at him. “A budding racist was insulting Damian, but Damian ignored it until the kid started saying something about Damian not really being wanted in the family.”

( _Oh, Dami...)_

“No…”

“I know. I may have been a bit more forceful than necessary when I was making sure Damian didn’t get suspended. And then I took the two of us to W.E. and we may have terminated the deal we had with their company because the mother was nearly as big a jerk as her son. And we also may have hacked into the Academy and ruined the kid’s grades.”

Dick suppressed a grin. He shouldn’t be so pleased with that, but he was a Bat, and he was vindictive and protective, and he was very comfortable blaming Bruce for all of it.

“We actually had fun together and were completely civil. He even laughed a little.”

Dick’s face softened. “That’s nice to hear.”

Tim gave a wry grin. “Yeah, just… when we got back… it’s like he remembered what the kid said and sort of went on the defensive. Because, well… you know how he feels better than anyone.”

And Dick did. Because his baby brother was the most mature ten-year old ever. But he was 10 years old and as confident as he was, he was desperately insecure when it came to his place in the family. He wished he wasn’t. He wished he knew how much they all loved him – even Tim.

Dick huffed, crossing his arms. “Well, we’ll just have to remind him that other people don’t know anything about our family!”

Tim rose an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair. “Meaning?”

Dick grinned. “It’s a surprise. Just leave it to me!”

“That… makes me sort of nervous.”

* * *

 

“Pennyworth, where is everyone?”

Pennyworth looked at him. “Master Bruce went out on patrol with Miss Cassandra, Miss Stephanie, and Miss Gordon. You and your brothers have been given the day off; they said they would be in the theatre room. If you’d take these cookies to them, it would be most appreciated, Master Damian.”

Damian grumbled under his breath, but took the platter of cookies and made his way to the theatre.  

He paused at the door, frowning. His brothers were in the room and he had the strangest feeling that they had planned this: the four of them having the night off and having Pennyworth ask him to deliver the cookies. He was sure he would regret actually opening the door, but he steeled himself and twisted the door handle.

Damian’s face went blank as he took in the sight in front of him.

His three brothers – his _older_ brothers – had pushed all of the seating against the wall and were currently sitting in the middle of the room. In a tent. Made out of blankets.

( _What is wrong with them?)_

“Ooh!” Grayson began, grinning and waving at him. “Dami! You brought the cookies. Come here; close the door.”

Damian set the platter on the ground and turned to walk out the room.

“Oh no you don’t, you little brat!”

Sometimes, he underestimated how far his brothers were willing to go to achieve their aims. He constantly berated himself for it.

Damian grabbed the door handle as Todd wrapped his arms around his legs and pulled. Damian gritted his teeth and tightened his grip.

“Let me go, Todd! I want no part in whatever ridiculous scheme the three of you have come up with!”

“Yeah? Well I don’t care what you want; you’re joining the three of us and you’re going to like it!”

“I won’t! Put me down!”

“Just let go and stop being a brat, brat!”

“Is this actually happening?”

“Yes, Tim. Yes, it is.”

“Let the handle go!”

“No!”

“Should we stop it?”

“Yes. But after we take pictures; Steph and I are putting together a family scrapbook.”

“I’ll take the pictures. You stop Jay from ripping Damian in half.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Babybird.”

“You’d have to in order to get me to let go, Todd.”

“Stop being stubborn!”

Damian snarled, though he knew there was no point. “This is kidnapping!”

“Damian… There are really no words for this,” Drake muttered.

“Shut up, Drake! And don’t think you’ll escape my wrath. All of you are guilty!”

Damian heard Grayson sigh and registered the older man’s presence next to him. He turned his head to glare properly at his eldest brother.

“What is this ambush, Grayson?”

He pouted. “It wasn’t going to be an ambush; you were just supposed to join us. This is really all your fault.”

“I fail to see how!”

“Are you going to help or am I just supposed to be holding him like this the whole night?”

“Right. Babybird, come here real quick, please?”

Drake complied, coming to stand next to Damian, across form Grayson. “Yeah?”

Damian shuddered and let go of the door handle as Grayson ran his fingers across his ribcage. He would deny that he yelped until his dying day. And even then.

Drake reached out and caught his upper body, stopping Damian from dropping to the floor by only a few feet.

“A little warning would have been nice, Dick.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“Oh my-“

“Wait. Hold on. What just happened?” Todd demanded, still holding on to Damian’s legs.

“Did you just-“

Damian gritted his teeth and Grayson’s grin. “Grayson…”

“Didn’t you guys know? Our baby bro is ticklish.”

“I’ve been trained to withstand nearly every torture known to man. I. Am. Not. Ticklish!”

Todd cackled. “This… is the best thing ever. Babybat is ticklish! Do you know what this means? Timmy, do you understand what this is?”

“Jay, no one in the world understands this better than I do. I have never been so blessed.”

Grayson’s laugh was obscenely bright. “All right, guys. You can torture Dami about it later when he looks less inclined to bite one of us.”

“I won’t stop at that,” Damian muttered menacingly.

Grayson was undeterred, smiling down at him gently. “Let’s move him. I’ll grab the cookies and close the door.”

Damian glared at nothing as Todd and Drake moved him over to their ridiculous tent. They set him down, and he contemplated trying to run, but then Grayson dimmed the lights and slid into the tent, settling at his side, and he knew he’d never escape.

He glowered at the blank movie screen as he was squished between Drake and his eldest brother. “What is the point of this?”

“We’re just going to hang out, Little D. Watch a movie, eat some of Alfie’s cookies, and just chill. Brotherly bonding!”

Damian stared at his oldest bother. “This is insane.”

Grayson just continued to grin, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “It’ll be fun!”

“Tt.”

“You have the remote, Little Wing?”

“Yeah, just…”

Damian felt fingers run up his side; he yelped, jumping up in his surprise.

He would deny it until his dying day. Even then.

“TODD!!”

Todd cackled. “I can’t believe this! This is so great!”

“Todd,” Damian snarled, crouching and glaring at him. “You’ll regret that!”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Uh… You know I’m in the middle of you two, right? Could you not?”

“Guys, stop! You’ll bring down the fort!”

Damian stopped himself from leaping at Todd, turning to Grayson. “Did you just call this pathetic structure a _fort_?”

“It is! It’s a blanket fort.”

“This isn’t a fort. This is a tent, Grayson. A fort should be easily defensible and as close to impenetrable as possible. This tent is in the middle of the room, has a number of structural weaknesses, has no door, and is made of _blankets_. This is the least fort-like structure I have ever come across; it would be painfully easy to infiltrate.”

The responding silence confused Damian. He looked over at Grayson, frowning at the odd expression on his face. He couldn’t place it, but it worried him – not that he’d admit it, but still. He looked over at Todd and Drake, only to find them with the same expression.

“What?” he snapped, trying not to show his discomfort.

They exchanged looks before Grayson shook his head and smiled. “A tent sounds good, I guess. Next time, we’ll have you help us build it so that it’s a proper fort – as much of a fort as one made out of blankets can be, anyway. Let’s watch the movie, huh?”

Damian frowned, but nodded. “You should have consulted me first; then this tent wouldn’t be so pathetic.”

Grayson laughed. “Jaybird, start the movie?”

“Yeah.”

“What is this movie about?”

“Batman.”

Damian blinked in confusion, turning to Drake. “Father?”

Drake smiled wryly. “A lot of people make movies about heroes, you know. Dick and Jay think it’s funny to watch and point out all the discrepancies.”

“It sounds annoying.”

“It is.”

“Now, now, Timmy,” Todd said, draping an arm around Drake’s shoulder and leaning forward. “Don’t ruin this for Babybat This is going to be hilarious.”

“Definitely!” Grayson added. “I think Tim is Robin in this one. The synopsis said that Nightwing was in it, and that Red Hood made an appearance as a minor antagonist.”

“Oi! Minor? If I’m an antagonist, I should be the main one! I could have done way more damage than all the others.”

“Don’t sound so proud, Jason,” Drake said, rolling his eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be the best at everything you do, Timmers.”

Grayson snickered, and Damian couldn’t help rolling his eyes at their antics.

“Are we going to watch the movie or not?” he groused.

* * *

 

“Why did you make me watch that? It was horrifying. Their form was disgusting-“

“Even when I was just starting out, I was never that bad.”

“Their patrol schedules were unrealistic-“

“Their plans were full of holes-“

“The effects were pitiful-“

“The interaction, even in costume-“

“It was disgraceful.”

“Agreed.”

If Damian’s sensibilities were less offended by that terrible film, he might take a moment to be disturbed at the complete agreement between himself and Drake.

But it wouldn’t have been nearly so believable considering Damian was leaning against him, and had been for the last half hour.

( _It’s only because he’s conveniently located._ )

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad.”

“Grayson, that movie should be destroyed.”

“All copies should be erased from existence.”

“The creators should be punished.”

“Jail time seems appropriate.”

Todd snorted. “You guys are too sensitive. Though I will admit that my portrayal was poorly done.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Jay. I sort of liked it.”

“You’re only saying that because Nightwing was the best part of the movie.”

“Their interpretation of you was fairly accurate, Grayson.”

“We’ll just say that’s because he’s a two dimensional person.”

“Oi!”

Damian snorted, suppressing a smirk. “The movie did get one thing wrong: Grayson never acts his age that often.”

“Ha! He’s got you there, Dickiebird.”

“I’m being ganged up on. How did this happen? Tim, come over to my side!”

“Are there cookies?” Drake quipped.

“…Please?”

“No thanks.”

“That hurts, Timmy.”

“Yeah, yeah, stop whining already, Dick.”

Grayson pouted before stretching lying down and stretching out. He yawned and patted the floor next to him. “Come on, guys.”

“Are you trying to make us sleep on the floor, Grayson?”

His question was ignored. Grayson just grinned and tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. Damian grumbled on principle, but lied back on the floor next to his older brother, staring up at the ceiling to avoid seeing the smug grin that he knew was on Grayson’s face.

Todd snorted. “Might as well.”

“Ah- Jason! You didn’t have to drag me! I was going to lay down anyway.”

“You were moving too slow.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a deadline.”

“Shut up.”

Damian sighed under his breath, closing his eyes. He was prepared to fall asleep – as uncomfortable as he was, he’d slept in worse conditions – when Grayson spoke.

“Timmy told me what happened today at school.”

His eyes snapped open, but he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure where Grayson was going with this.

“I’m proud of you, Little D.”

( _What?_ )

Damian gritted his teeth, sitting up abruptly. “Why?” he spat. “I attacked a child just because I can’t control my temper. He was an idiot. I should be better than that.”

( _I’m not good enough_.)

“Better than what?” Todd grunted. “He was ignorance incarnate. He’s a bigot and he has no idea what this family is like. He can think what he wants, but if he says it to your face, you’ve got every right to threaten him. I would’ve skipped the knife and the threats and just punched him in the face really. As far as I’m concerned, you showed self-restraint.”

“Because you’re the model of self-restraint.”

“…Shut up, Tim.”

“Little Wing’s right though, Dami. I’d rather you just handled it the way you and Timmy did later, but I could never be mad at you for reacting the way you did.”

Damian startled when Grayson’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him down to the floor. He stiffened, but couldn’t help relaxing into his brother’s hold. He screwed his eyes shut and took a breath.

“Grayson-“

“Damian, if you guys hadn’t handled it, I probably would have dealt with the situation myself. No one gets to tell you that you don’t belong with us.”

“You’re ours,” Drake said, tone soft but surprisingly vehement.

“You’re a brat, but you’re our brat. Don’t even, Dick.”

Grayson chuckled and loosened his arms, but didn’t let go. Damian was glad; he didn’t want him to.

“And we need you to know that we love you too much to be okay with something like this happening. Or to be mad at you for what you did. There is no ‘better than that’, Damian. Not ever.”

“I… Thank you.”

“Of course, Little D.”

“Any time, Babybat.”

“You’re welcome, Dami.”

Grayson’s voice was gentle, and Todd’s voice was soft, and Drake’s voice was downright fond.

Damian took another breath and let himself smile. It wasn’t as though anyone could see it.

* * *

 

After talking to Alfred, Bruce was a little more than wary about entering the movie theatre.

(“They asked me to send Master Damian to the movie theatre, sir. None of them exited the room; you’ll find all of them there, Master Bruce.”

“…Thank you, Alfred.”)

Bruce frowned slightly as he put a hand on the door handle. He was expecting to find a cracked movie screen, overturned chairs, a fair amount of blood, and at least two children unconscious. He’d never admit to being as stunned as he was when he opened the door.

Damian was curled into Tim, face pressed into the crook of older boy’s neck. Tim was actually _sleeping_ , clinging to Damian tightly, nose buried in Damian’s hair. Dick was half on top of Damian, hand partially outstretched and gripping Tim’s shirt tightly. Jason was lying as close to Tim as possible without actually crushing him, an arm and a leg spread across all three of his brothers, trapping them beneath him. And they were in a blanket fort.

It was the cutest thing he had ever seen. Not that he’d admit it.

His face softened and he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. Dick had mentioned something about a scrapbook…

_(And it’ll be a nice picture to have.)_


	2. Brunch Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian and Tim follow through with their internal promises to thank Steph for sewing a pocket in Damian’s blazer because they were actually, genuinely thankful. Steph is okay with this. Mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
> 
> Warnings: Contains the most precious individual in the world. Also, Damian breaks the rules of the road.

 

Steph smiled bemusedly when Tim blocked her from going to Cass’s room.

“Uh… hey, ex-boyfriend. Did you need something?”

He smiled. “Just you for a little bit.”

She blinked. “Uh… why?”

“I thought I’d take you out for brunch; you love brunch.”

She raised an eyebrow and flipped her hair. “I know I’m gorgeous, Tim, but I thought we agreed that I would be the one that got away?”

He rolled his eyes. “Not a date, Steph. I just wanted to treat you. We could get waffles. With blueberry syrup.”

She was tempted. She had no idea what Tim was actually planning – she knew it wasn’t a date; she had been joking – but waffles were worth the risk. Even if they weren’t Alfred’s.

Still…

“I was going to hang with-“

“Brown!”

She and Tim turned around to see Damian approach them.

( _Wow, he’s way to intent for this to be safe_.)

“Uh… Hi, Damian,” she said, waving hesitantly.

“Are you done with her, Drake?”

“Excuse me!”

“No, we’re in the middle of something.”

“Too bad. Brown, come with me.”

“Damian!”

“Stop whining, Drake.”

“Hello!” Steph put her hands on her hips when both boys turned to her. “I get that I’m irresistible, but I feel like I should have some say in this.”

Damian was pouting at her, though he’d deny it to his grave. It was adorable. Tim just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was probably going to go bald prematurely.

“What did you want, Dami?”

Damian crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air.

( _Brat._ )

“We’re going out.”

“You want me to take you somewhere?” she asked, too shocked to even bother commenting on his demanding tone.

“No. I’ll drive.”

“Oh my- You can’t drive, Damian,” Tim said, letting his face fall into his hands like he dealt with this too often.

He probably did.

“I know how,” Damian protested.

“Bruce is not going to let you take one of his cars just because – where are you even trying to take Steph?”

Damian looked like he was in physical pain. Or not. Because when he was in physical pain, he went around like there was nothing wrong. So, Damian looked like a normal person who was in pain.

“I’m taking her out for waffles,” he said, lip curling slightly.

Steph gaped; Time spluttered.

“You can’t! I’m taking her out for waffles! How did you even know she liked waffles?”

“I asked Cain.”

“That’s sweet, Damian, but-“

“Don’t flatter yourself, Brown. I’m repaying a debt; I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“A debt? For what? Introducing you to reality television?” Tim drawled, one hand on his hip, eyebrow arched.

“Okay, can I just say that’s the sassiest thing I’ve seen from you in a while? Are you taking lessons? Are you giving lessons?”

Tim gave her a deadpan stare, and Damian snorted.

“Also, I’ve done things for Damian!”

“Like what?” they asked simultaneously.

“Wait, you’re not allowed to ask that when you’re trying to take her out to repay a debt!”

“She obviously doesn’t know what I’m attempting to show my gratitude for; I have every right to ask.”

“There’s something wrong with your logic.”

“I doubt you know what logic is, Drake.”

“Says the kid who rushes into everything recklessly.”

“That has nothing to do with logic, Drake; you’re just proving my point.”

“Well, maybe if you thought things out logically-“

“How would you know if I didn’t? Are you a telepath now, Drake?”

“Please, you’re-“

“Oh my gosh! You’re both so cute! I need to take pictures; Dick and I are starting a scrapbook.”

They both stared at her in horror, making her cackle. She snapped a picture with her phone because she hadn’t been lying.

Not only did Dick actually want to start a scrapbook called Bats and BirdsTM, they were actually adorable. Normally their fights made her want to hide behind Cass because they were vicious when they went at it, but this seemed…

It reminded her more of how brothers fought as opposed to mortal enemies out for each other’s blood.

“Brown-“

“Steph-“

“Okay. I have no idea why the two of you want to take me out for waffles today,” she said, interrupting them before they could ask her to delete the picture.

( _Not that I would, but still_.)

“But, I’m willing to go along with it. You both can take me out for waffles. Tim, you drive. Let’s go!”

They stared at her.

“You want us to take you out for waffles,” Tim began.

“Together?” Damian finished.

Maybe she hadn’t thought that through, but they were being adorable and she was pretty sure she could get Dick to pay her for the pictures.

“Yep!”

They shared a wary look, and Steph congratulated herself on getting them to bond over… not wanting to be in the same restaurant as one another.

“Fine.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Great; let’s go!”

* * *

 

“Turn this garbage off, Drake!”

“No, Damian. Steph and I like it.”

“Then at least stop signing along with it; you sound like a dying man.”

“I do not!”

Steph snickered as Damian imitated Tim’s singing voice perfectly. He really was a terrible singer.

“Hey?” She asked, interrupting them. “Does that mean you like my singing?”

“I’m trying to be nice, Brown. Don’t force me to tell the truth.”

“Seriously, Damian? That was you trying to be nice? I’d hate to see you being mean. Oh wait, I know what that looks like,” Tim drawled.

“Just shut up, Drake.”

Tim responded by singing along with the radio even louder than before.

Steph watched Damian grit his teeth before the boy reached forward from the back seat and turned the radio off.

“Damian! Wait- Do you even have your seatbelt on?”

“I don’t need a seatbelt, Drake.”

“Put your seatbelt on, Damian. Dick would kill me if he knew I was driving around with you and you didn’t have your seat belt on!”

“I’m not putting it on, Drake!”

“You’re just being contrary!”

“Steph, please help Damian put his seatbelt on. Damian can’t seem to do it himself.”

Steph gaped at Tim. She didn’t want to go near him! “What? No! Look at him; he has teeth!”

“Astute observation, Brown.”

“Steph! Do you want Dick to kill me?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Shut up, Demonbrat!”

“Come on, Tim, I won’t tell him if you don’t!”

“Please, like that matters. He has this instinct when Damian is doing something trivial but possibly life threatening. Like riding a motorcycle without a helmet, or going in the snow without a coat, or watching a horror movie – or riding in a car without a seatbelt. Nothing actually useful, but still.”

Steph snorted, especially when she looked back and saw Damian’s pout. Because it was true. Dick’s ability to pinpoint when Damian was doing something not-actually dangerous but apparently worrisome was uncanny.

_*Ring*_

“Oh my- He’s calling! Steph!”

“Don’t blame me!”

“Damian!”

“This isn’t my fault, Drake! He wouldn’t be calling if you had let me drive!”

“You can’t even see out the windshield!”

“Are you going to answer it?” Steph questioned, feeling mildly hysterical.

The car phone was ringing and Dick was calling and it was terrifying.  

 _(Dick’s scarier than Bruce is sometimes_.)

“Just answer it, Drake!”

“Last time Dick called me in this car, I had to pick you up from school. I’m not ready for this.”

“Just do it!”

“Put your seatbelt on first!”

“What will that help?”

Steph answered the call interrupting their argument. They shot glares at her, and she shrugged.

“Hello?” Dick asked.

“Hey, Dick,” Tim responded, voice surprisingly level.

“Hey, Timmy,” Dick said, tone deceptively light. “I was just calling to check on Little D. Dami?”

Damian cleared his throat. “Grayson.”

“Everything all right, Dami?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“No reason,” Dick responded, but his voice was laced with suspicion. “I just had a weird feeling. Everything’s okay, right you guys?”

“I just said that, Grayson.”

“Of course, Dick. He’s fine.”

Dick paused. Steph held her breath.

( _Is he buying it?)_

“Steph?” Dick asked.

Steph blanched, shooting a panicked look at Damian and Tim. “Yeah?”

“Everything’s good right? I know you wouldn’t keep anything from me.”

The guilt was stifling. She had no idea how he did it; he should be a mom. Well, he already sort of was.

“Damian-“

“Is being surprisingly well behaved. Even if he doesn’t appreciate our singing,” Tim cut in, shooting a look at Damian and gesturing sharply to the seatbelt.

Damian hissed under his breath, but acquiesced, if only to avoid a reprimand from Dick.

“Really? That’s what you were going to say, Steph?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “Definitely. Everything fine.”

“… All right. I’ll talk to you all when you get back, then. Have fun.”

“Thanks, we will!” Steph cried, hanging up the phone and sighing heavily in relief. “Oh my gosh! I almost died! If he didn’t kill me for being complicit in Damian not wearing a seatbelt, the guilt would have suffocated me. You owe me waffles _and_ pancakes!”

“Done,” Tim agreed, shaking his head. “It’s just so creepy, isn’t it?”

“I know!”

Damian snorted, and Steph looked back at him, rolling her eyes when she saw that he had taken his seat belt off again.

“Really?”

“It’s restricting my movements.”

“It’s a seatbelt, Damian. That’s what it does.”

“Tt. I refuse to-“

_*Ring*_

“OH MY GOSH!”

“He’s calling again! He’s calling again! How? Did he put cameras in the car?”

“He’s not you, Drake!” Damian spat, but he was eyeing the interior of the car nervously.

“Damian!” Steph exclaimed. “Put your seatbelt back on!”

“Brown-“

“Do it, Damian! Just do it!”

Damian scowled, but followed their directions just as Tim answered the phone.

“Dick? Is something wrong?” Tim asked calmly.

Steph was mildly envious of his ability to act as though he hadn’t just been freaking out. She supposed living with Dick – and all the rest of them – would do that to a person.

“Uh…” Dick began. “No, I don’t think so. False alarm, I guess. Sorry, I’ll let you guys go.”

He hung up almost immediately, and the three of them exchanged looks.

“‘False alarm’?” Steph repeated.

“I have no idea. I don’t know. But, Damian, keep your seatbelt on.”

“Tt. You’re ridiculous, Drake.”

Steph noticed that he didn’t even move to disengage the seatbelt.

( _This is probably why he made such a good Batman_.)

* * *

 

Steph was only half sure the waffles and pancakes were worth it when they slide into their booth.

Tim and Damian were sitting next to each other, which was probably a bad idea, but she wasn’t going to say anything about it. She wasn’t sure if it were worse because they were both wearing oversized sunglasses inside and they – and therefore she – looked disturbingly suspicious, or because they were bound to do something to get her kicked out of this diner for the rest of her life.

( _I should have just asked for money.)_

“Oh! So what is this all about? I never got an answer.”

Damian looked like he was in pain again; Tim just shifted awkwardly.

“Come on! Just tell me. I want to know what I’m being thanked for.”

Damian sniffed. “I don’t know what Drake is thanking you for, but I’m attempting to show my gratitude for your help in sewing a pocket into my blazer.”

Steph blinked. “The secret knife pocket? It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“It’s the only reason I wasn’t suspended today, so I’m thanking you. Don’t be an ingrate, Brown.”

“There’s that Wayne charm,” Steph muttered, rolling her eyes. “If only you were a few years older.”

Damian snorted and pushed his glasses up his nose.

She stifled a giggle. “What about you, Tim?”

“Uh… I mentioned earlier, right? I wanted to do a friend thing; it’s been a while since we have…”

Steph stared; she had a feeling Damian was rolling his eyes behind his shades.

( _So much awkwardness_.)

“You’re normally a better liar than that. But, whatever. I’m just glad for waffles and pancakes.”           

Tim coughed and looked away as she waved down a waitress.

“Hi! I’m Danielle, and I’ll be your server today; here are the menus. Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee – black. Could you bring some sugars?”

Steph rolled her eyes at Tim’s predictability. “Two milks. Wait – Damian, you drink milk right? I mean, it’s an animal product…”

He glowered. “I’m a vegetarian, not a vegan, Brown. Not that I’d expect you to know the difference.”

Steph just rolled her eyes. “Two milks, thanks.”

Danielle smiled and walked away. “I’ll be right out with that.”

“Still,” Tim muttered, “it’s a good thing you drink milk. Otherwise I doubt you’d ever grow.”

Damian bristled; Steph did her best to stifle her laugh. Tim had brought height up. This was about to get good.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Drake! If anyone’s growth is stunted, it’s yours. All you ever do is drink coffee and energy drinks. It’s your own fault if you never get past your current height.”

Tim gaped. “No. Stop. I’m going to grow. Coffee-“

“Is impeding your growth. You’ll never get any taller. Or broader. You can’t even blame it on genetics.”

“I-“

“Here are your drinks!”

Steph giggled and the smug look on Damian’s face and the horrified look on Tim’s.

( _Has he seriously never thought about that?_ )

“Thanks, Danielle! Can we get a few more minutes to order?”

“Sure thing; I’ll be back in a second.”

Steph grinned, turning the other two. “All right, boys, you’re both wonderfully masculine and will eventually surpass Bruce in height. Look at your menus and find something to eat, huh?”

They both sighed and nodded, pouting slightly. They looked more like brothers than she had ever seen them. It was so cute.

And then Damian blew up.

“What is this?” he snarled, waving the paper menu in the air. “Is this a _children’s_ menu? Where is that woman? I don’t appreciate her patronizing me; I demand-“

“Sit down, Damian!” Steph hissed, waving her hand at him until he grudgingly complied.

Tim dropped his head onto the table. “We’re going to get kicked out. We’re never going to be allowed back here. Damian is going to get us kicked out.”

Damian leaned forward, hissing. “This is a travesty of proper food service, Brown! Not to mention complete and utter disrespect – treating me like a child!

( _Nope. Nope. Not touching that.)_

“Damian.”

Steph shook her head furiously, not caring if Damian could see her.

 _(Please don’t_.)

Tim looked her straight in the eye. “You are a child.”

Steph threw her head back and groaned. “You are the worst ex-boyfriend ever.”

“Don’t insult me, Drake! Denotation-wise, perhaps, but in every other sense of the word, I am not. And this menu is insufficient towards providing proper nutrients. I eat as much as a fully grown female to compensate for my training – and I’m still growing! Thus, I need more calories than any meal on this list could provide me. _So,_ _I demand_ -“

Tim snatched the menu from Damian’s hands and gave him the adult menu. “I already know what I’m getting; just look through that.”

Damian paused before nodding, a scowl on his face. “Fine. But this establishment-“

“Yes, yes. W.E. will file a lawsuit about handing out kid’s menus without asking if a kid wants one or not. I’ll tell B when we get back.”

“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated, Drake.”

“Noted and ignored. You should try the French toast; it’s good. You’ll like it. The hash-browns are good, too. It’s what I’m getting.”

“…Fine.”

Steph resisted the urge to squeal. She had so many stories to tell Dick. And Cass. And Alfred. All of them.

“Look at you two!” she shouted. “Eating the same food, matching expressions, bickering without trying to stab each other! I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone or something!”

“We’re in public; I couldn’t stab him if I wanted to.”

“Seriously, Steph? You’re making way too big a deal out of nothing.”                              

Steph smirked at them, ignoring the glares she could feel from behind their sunglasses.

“Hey! Do you guys know what you want, yet?” Danielle asked, popping up just in time to interrupt would have likely turned into a fight.

“I’ll have the Belgian Waffle Platter and then the Short-stack Buttermilk Pancake Platter. Bacon for both, scrambled eggs,” Steph said, smiling.

This was going to be great. She was pretty sure that the day would still end up in disaster, but, at the very least, she would get a whole lot of breakfast out of it.

“Gotcha’. How about you two?”

“We’ll have two Supreme French Toast Platters with hash-browns. Sausage with just one,” Tim said, smiling and handing her both of the menus on the table.

Damian glared at the kid’s menu pointedly until Tim gave in and handed it to Danielle.

“Could you throw that away for us too?”

“Of course! Your food will be out in just a little.”

“Thank you.” Tim waited until she had left to turn to Damian. “You’re so difficult.”

“Hardly. “

“So,” Steph started, leaning forward with a grin. “Alfred told us – ‘us’ being me, Cass, and Babs – that you – ‘you- being you two, Dick, and Jason – had a fun night last night. There were movies, cookies, blanket forts…”

“It wasn’t a fort!”

“What of it?” Tim asked, voice laced with mistrust.

( _He knows me so well.)_

“What? You mean Dick didn’t tell you? Bruce took a picture of the four of you together. It was sent to everyone – except for you, Damian, and Jason. For obvious reasons.”

She pulled out her phone, unlocking it, and pulling up the photo. She held out her phone, grinning.

She had never seen either of them turn that red. She turned the phone around, snapping the picture discreetly. Not that it mattered; the two of them were so busy trying not to die from a mixture of anger and embarrassment that they didn’t even notice.

They shared a look and scooted to opposite ends of the booth, making her laugh.

“Seriously?”

“That… that…”

“We were sleeping. We can’t be held responsible for our actions.”

“Exactly!”

“What does it matter? It’s not like it can be used for blackmail – everyone in the family has it. It’s _cute_!”

She stared at them, wondering if Tim would help Damian when the boy inevitably decided to jump her in order to take her phone and delete the photo.

_*Ring*_

Tim looked away from her, answering his phone. “Hey, Jay. What’s up?” He snorted. “Creepy timing – Steph just showed me. How’d you find out? Of course Dick is happy about it. No, that probably won’t work. Everyone has one, so you’ll have to do better than that. Yes, I mean everyone. B took the picture. Yes, Cass too. And Babs. Everyone, Jason – do you know what that word means? No, Jason, I’m not- Damian! Stop!“

Steph raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her seat as Damian jumped on Tim and started trying to grab the phone. Damian had all but crawled into Tim’s lap, and the older boy was leaning away as far as he could without falling out of his seat – which was actually pretty far, given his sense of balance.

“Just give me the phone, Drake!”

“No! Dam- Jason, shut up! Stop it, Damian! I will hang up on you, Jason!”

“You could call him yourself, Dami,” Steph pointed out, taking a sip from her milk. She was ignored. So, she turned her attention to smiling at the other patrons, who were stating at them; they really didn’t need to get reported to the police.

“Ha!”

Steph looked back over at them, blinking in surprise. Somehow, Tim had ended up half in the booth and half on the floor, while Damian was smirking triumphantly and sitting on Tim’s legs.

 _(I probably should have let them take me separately_.)

“Todd, what do you plan to do about this? Drake is fine-“

“I don’t think you’re qualified to say that when you pushed me out of the booth.”

“That’s not the point, Todd. This needs to be dealt with. I suggest we blackmail them. We-“

“Or you could ask,” Steph suggested.

Damian stared at her silently.

“Steph,” Tim began slowly. “Will you delete the picture?”

Steph grinned and leaned over the table. She tapped the button to delete the picture and smirked and the slack-jawed looks she got from both of them.

“I’ll even tell the others to delete the photos, too. It’s the least I can do since you’re treating me for no reason, ex-boyfriend.”

He gaped. “Thanks, Steph.”

“Todd, it’s taken care of. Brown deleted the picture; she said she’ll tell the others too as well. Yes. We saw her do it. Tt _. Goodbye_ , Todd.”

Steph grinned as Damian hung up and moved off of Tim’s legs.

No need to tell them that Babs had copies saved on her computer and that Alfred had already created physical copies for the scrapbook.

Tim grunted as he pulled himself up and dusted off his shirt. He snatched his phone from Damian with a scowl. “Brat.”

Damian’s retort was cut short as Danielle walked over with their food.

“Here we go! The waffles and pancakes for you, French toast with sausage for you, and French toast with bacon for you. Let me know if you need anything!”

There was utter silence as she walked away from their table. Steph knew it wouldn’t last long.

“Drake.”

What she could see of Tim’s face looked resigned. He tried anyway.

“Damian, just take the bacon off of your plate.”

He snarled. “I demand recompense!”

“Just give it to me or Steph.”

“No! First, the children’s menu. Now, bacon? That woman needs to be fired! I demand to speak to her employer!”

Steph winced. “Hey! If you think about it, it’s Tim’s fault.”

They both turned to her sharply.

( _Sorry, Tim_.)

“He said sausage on one plate only. That’s not exactly clear.”

Damian turned to Tim with a furious scowl. “So you planned it!”

“What? Steph- no, Damian, I didn’t plan it! It was an accident – on both our parts. I wasn’t as clear as I could have been and she just didn’t understand. No one is trying to force you to eat meat!”

Damian leaned forward, and Steph subtly moved utensils away from him. He shot her a sneer before turning back to Tim.

“All of you say that it’s not healthy for me to be a vegetarian. Including you, Drake. How do I know this wasn’t a ploy?”

“Oh my- It’s not a ploy, Damian. I just wasn’t thinking.”

Damian cocked his head thoughtfully, staring at Tim for a few more seconds before a smirk overtook his face. “That’s not exactly a surprise then.”

Tim threw his head back, but Steph just laughed, relaxing now that Damian had sat back down.

“You walked right into that one.”

“I know,” he groaned.

Steph’s lips quirked when Damian flicked both pieces of bacon at his brother’s face. Tim didn’t even react.

(A _dorable._ )

* * *

 

“Oh! That was so good!”

Damian and Tim stared at her.

“What?”

“That’s disgusting, Brown.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but… How did you eat all of that?”

She rolled her eyes. “I always have room for breakfast food. You should be embarrassed that you don’t.”

Tim’s smile was confused but fond. Damian still looked disturbed.

“Was everything good, then?” Danielle asked, walking up to the table with a check in her hand.

Steph grinned and kicked Damian under the table when she noticed he was scowling at their waitress. Kid had no chill.

“It was excellent, thanks.”

“All right, here’s the check. Have a good day!”

Steph’s smile dropped as he woman walked away; there was way too much tension at the table now. She’d take a guess and say it was because Tim and Damian had started playing tug-of-war with the check.

“Let go, Drake!”

“I’m paying, Damian.”

“You drove.”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with this!”

“Give me the check, Drake! I’m paying my debt; you’re only here because you wanted to treat her. You can do that later.”

Steph hummed in agreement, noting the smug smirk on Damian’s face amusedly. Tim frowned, but she had no sympathy. He should have just been honest about his reasons.

“But we’re already here, so I might as well do it now. You can do it later.”

“I have no desire to repeat this process.”

“Just let me pay.”

“No!”

“I’m older!”

“How is that relevant?”

“I-“

“You could split the check,” Steph suggested.

As funny as it was to watch, there were way too many witnesses here.

They looked at her briefly and then looked at each other. They filled their quota of grumbling, but both pulled out their wallets, so Steph counted it as a win for her.

Especially since she didn’t have to pay a cent.

“Well, check’s 35.57. Maybe, six dollars for the tip? So, just go an even 21 dollars each?”

Damian snorted.

( _Here we go_.)

“Why should we tip that woman?”

Tim heaved an exasperated sigh. “It’s polite to tip.”

“No. You tip someone who’s service was excellent. Her service was not excellent. She doesn’t deserve to be tipped. We can pay 18 dollars each and leave her the change if we have to be _polite._ ”

He was hissing again. Like a cat. Steph snorted; she needed to mention that to Cass. They were trying to figure out what Damian’s spirit animal was.

“That’s… We can’t tip her 43 cents, Damian.”

“That’s what her service was worth.”

“You’re just upset about the kid’s menu and the bacon!”

“It was an insult!”

“I thought we established that it wasn’t!”

“The problem being that _you thought_.”

Steph let out a whistle. “Again! Burn!”

“Really, Steph?”

“What?”

She could feel him rolling his eyes. Also, he was doing that tilting thing with his neck, which was sort of a giveaway.

“Damian, we’re tipping.”

“I won’t.”

“Then I will; and that means I’ll be paying more than you.”

Damian snarled. “Fine!”

( _The fact that that worked is just sad_. _But not really surprising_.)

“Good,” Tim said, sounding so smug it annoyed even her. “So, 21 each-“

“You can pay 21 if you want, Drake. I’ll pay 24.”

( _Oh no_.)

Tim’s jaw clenched. “28 for me.”

“35.”

“40.”

“46.”

“56.”

“OH MY GOSH! Stop!” Steph exclaimed. “I get that you’re rich, but please. Just pay the 21 and be done with it.”

For a second, she thought she’d convinced them.

“67,” Damian spat.

Tim scowled, pulling his wallet out and opening it. “302.”

Damian pulled his wallet out and cursed. “289,” he growled.

Tim smirked and smacked the wad of cash on table. “Too bad, I guess.”

Damian just sneered, putting his bills right next to the money Tim had laid down.

Steph just stared at the pile.  “This is why I wanted to hang out with Cass today. Because she doesn’t carry hundreds of dollars in her wallet and fight with her brother about who can leave a bigger tip. Let’s just… go.”

Steph stood up, shaking her head and walking out of the restaurant without a backwards look. Waynes were so embarrassing. Honestly.

“I feel like, at the end of this, you both owe me more brunch than you did before we started”

“I’m not doing this again, Brown. We’re even.”

“Maybe later.”

Steph shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Remember to put your seatbelt on, Dami.”

“Shut up, Brown.”

“Do you want to get another call from Dick?”

“Leave me alone, Drake; stop being paranoid.”

“Wow, really? _You_ are going to tell _me_ to stop being paranoid? Really?”

Steph threw her head back and laughed.

( _I don’t know why I love these idiots.)_

 

 

 

 


End file.
